Stop Making Out with Berry, Quinn
by HeavenlyHorcrux
Summary: Faberry/Brittana. Quinn isn't happy when Santana calls her out in front of Rachel.


"Santana, what the fuck?"

Santana ungracefully drops the ballot boxes on the table, pausing only to carefully straighten a dinosaur topper that was knocked askew with an uncharacteristic gentleness that Quinn can't even begin to understand. She turns to face Quinn with a devilish grin, one eyebrow cocked.

"I think you're going to have to be more specific," she shoots back.

Quinn gives her wheels one solid shove, stopping mere inches away from the hem of Santana's dress.

"Don't give me that shit. You know exactly what, Santana."

Santana, to her credit, looks completely at ease despite the fuming girl glaring up at her. She casually leans back against the table.

"Are you referring to me mentioning you and Berry's make out sesh?"

"_No, _I'm referring to the color of your dress. Yes, Santana, _yes._"

Quinn smooths out her brows with her index finger and thumb before rubbing her eyes once, shaking her head slightly.

"You weren't supposed to say anything! Especially not in front of her, of all people!"

"Jesus, calm down Fabray. She probably just thought it was some good old-fashioned Snix snark. And did you honestly expect me to play nice? I already gave her a _hug_, and pretended we were just the best of friends. Oh yeah, and I put her picture up in my locker. A little three-by-five, right up on my locker. Who the hell even carries those around with them? And you wanna know what Britt did when she saw it? Let me just say, she was not happy. The very next day there's a nearly life-sized picture of her covering the entire door. Not that I'm complaining, of course. It's loads better than looking at your troll and led to some mind-blowing jealously sex..."

"Just get to your point, Santana."

"I'm just saying, _Quinn, _it's high time you make a move. I've played supportive friend long enough. We're graduating in a month. In a month your little creature from the black lagoon will go off to New York, get hitched to her very own skyscraper, and play house in the sewers since that's the only place that Finn Hudson will feel like he's among his equals. You need to sit down, or at least sit her down since that's your default position now, and tell her you want to get on her Yentl lady parts."

Quinn fiddles with her wheels and turns a little, blankly staring at the conjugated verb chart on the board.

"I can't," she mumbles.

"_Yes_, you can."

She turns her chair back to face Santana, speaking louder now, clearer.

"_No, _I can't. I can't because she's in love with Finn. I can't because she's marrying Finn. I can't because she has all these big dreams and they don't involve me. They never involved me because I was always just the bitchy cheerleader who wanted her to fail. I can't because she doesn't feel the same way about me, I can't because she's perfect and ambitious and she would be way better off without me."

"Quinn…"

"No, Santana, I don't want to hear it."

"I don't care if you don't want to, but you have to. You have to talk to her because if you don't, you will always regret letting the chance pass you by. You will live the rest of your life wondering _what if?_ and I will not just stand by and let that happen because God knows you'll still be moaning about her when we're in some luxury retirement home in the Keys and Britt'll get so sick of you she'll ask me to kill you and there's no way I could ever say no to her."

Santana pauses to pull out a chair and sinks into it, leaning forward towards Quinn as a sly grin spreads across her face.

"Plus, I have it on good authority she's lusting after you too."

Quinn's eyes shoot up to meet Santana's.

"What?"

"Mhm-hmm. Well first off, my gaydar is dead on. And the hobbit's as straight as her dads are. And she basically looks at you like she wants to take you in your chair. I didn't know the dwarf was so kinky."

"Santana."

Santana rolls her eyes before relenting.

"Plus Kurt told me. And he's the sassy gay friend so of course he knows the scoop. Seriously Q, all of the gays have their special gossip circles. You need to be privy to this if you're planning on signing up."

Quinn sniffs but is otherwise motionless.

"Is that true?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

Santana scrunches her face.

"Never mind, don't answer that."

Quinn gives a watery chuckle.

"Plus Brittany thinks you guys are gonna work out just fine, much to her chagrin. You know she's never been a fan of Berry. She's already dreading having to speak to her regularly. And my girl's a freaking genius, Q, she's never wrong."

"Really?"

"Really."

Quinn laughs a little and genuinely smiles.

"Thanks, S."

Santana smiles back then pats Quinn's lap.

"Now come on, let's count these ballots up so me and Britt can be crowned already."


End file.
